


am (i) a master of my fate

by BecomeMyObsession



Series: dye the soul with the color of your thoughts [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Protective Lucifer, distressed Chloe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 05:02:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7030048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecomeMyObsession/pseuds/BecomeMyObsession
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chloe has a question that has been bothering her. A question the Devil definitely hadn't been expecting.</p><p>(Part 1/3. Yet can stand alone.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	am (i) a master of my fate

**Author's Note:**

> So this is part 1 of 3 stand alone fics that also weave together into one larger companion piece. 
> 
> This took me longer than expected as I found it hard to balance where I want to take this with the lightness of the show. I hope I kept them in character. This is obviously set after S1, as will part 2 and 3. And I know the show wont be going this route, so technically it's AU before it's officially AU. Although the first and second parts could possibly fit into canon.

Chloe sighed, staring at the mountain of paperwork that just never seemed to end, every time she got through a pile she could swear some stupid invisible paperwork fairy dumped more on her lap. She dropped her head into her hands, propped up by her elbows, and let herself growl out a sound of pure frustration; hands scrunching up in her hair pulling it slightly at the roots. “Will it ever end?”

“Well that depends on what you’re talking about Detective. If it’s the world, undoubtedly, someday, yes…”

She didn’t have the energy to glare at him, not surprised that he had somehow found his way to her desk despite being absent for nearly a week – God knows where he’d disappeared too. She silently flipped him the bird, ignoring his amused chuckle, and dropped her head to the desk, burying her head into her arms. “Look who crawled out the woodwork,” she muttered into her sleeve.

There was a beat of silence, where she guessed he was staring at her with that weird sort of puzzled expression, head tilted slightly. He baffled her as much as she, for some reason, baffled him. “You’re chipper this morning.” She felt the papers shift a bit as he perched on the edge of her desk.

“Yes, well, you left me to deal with all this-” she sat up, evidently startling Lucifer as she only just missed bashing heads with him. He had obviously been leaning over her, the term 'personal space' was definitely absent from his dictionary. She waved a hand at the two piles of paperwork. One done, one still waiting for her to fill out. “This is all your fault,” she glowered at him.

He frowned at her, picking up the top paper from the pile and quickly scanning it, “there’s this much paperwork for shooting someone?” He gingerly dropped it back on the pile, dusting his hand on his trousers as if to get rid of some invisible stain the dreaded papers had given him. “Seems a bit overboard… then again, bureaucracy does like keeping its workers overloaded and underpaid,” he pulled a face, “or so the news tells me.”

She looked at him confused, fully aware she was pulling some weird face in response, “why are you-” she shook her head, “never mind. And this isn’t for shooting someone, it’s because that _someone_ died.” She glowered at the papers again. Although Malcolm had kidnapped her daughter, threatened her life and her own, and had nearly “killed” Lucifer (she still wasn’t sure what had happened there – and his absence for the past week hadn’t cleared anything any further), she had still _killed_ him. Yes, she had shot people before, numerous times, but she’d never killed anyone. They’d always survived, in some way or another, her mind unwillingly flashed back to Jimmy and the disturbing scene as he’d bashed his head again and again and again against the glass until he was bleeding… she shook her head to clear the images.

Malcolm’s death was why she was assigned to desk duty, and – _completely unneeded_ \- mandatory therapy until she was deemed “fit” enough to re-enter the field. She had taken a life. Yes he was aggressive and dangerous and, well, he needed to be stopped, but she wasn’t sure if he’d deserved death. And at what cost? Not that she believed in that… _malarkey;_ the word echoed in her head and sounded strangely like Lucifer. She sighed deeply and resigned herself, reaching out to take the next paper from the pile, the one Lucifer has discarded.

A hand stopped her as she picked up the paper, resting lightly over the top of hers to stop her movement, and she once again looked at Lucifer in confusion. He smiled carefully, a look uncommon on Lucifer’s face but not unsuited. “Yes, but that someone was a _bad_ someone,” his voice was firm, as though he was 100% sure of that and she should be too.

How he knew she was struggling with it she had no idea, but she shrugged a shoulder and sent him a half smile, “yeah-” _perhaps._

“-you did the right thing Detective.”

“Did I though?” She muttered under her breath.

“ _Yes._ ” He stressed, still holding onto her hand, “trust me. He wasn’t going to stop, his soul was-” he paused, tilting his head a little and cracking a small, almost sinister, smile, “- _is_ damaged, broken, and twisted into something unidentifiable.” If that was supposed to be reassuring, it wasn’t doing her a whole lot of good. She stared at him deadpan, and he grinned at her, “hey-” he squeezed her hand, “no matter, least he’s gone now. He won’t hurt you again, don’t worry…” His expression darkened at that, and Chloe would have sworn she saw a brief speck of red in his eyes, before it was gone and he flashed his grin, “all sorted.”

She hummed, gently pulling her hand back, feeling a little unsettled and turned back to her paperwork for a distraction. Quickly filling out the blank spaces and circling the right parts, scribbling in the date and signing her name at the bottom, before moving onto the next. She worked in silence for a few minutes while Lucifer watched her. It was quite unnerving how he could remain so still and yet still seem so comfortable with just watching… “Okay, Lucifer-” she sighed, dropping her pen and looking up at him, “what is it you want? Why are you here? I’m not allowed on cases so if you’re looking for one go ask the Captain. I’m sure she’ll find someone you can-”

She was cut off as he held his hand up, and she glared at him and opened her mouth to call him on the rudeness but he beat her to the punch, “I came to see how you, my lovely Detective, are holding up after the whole _unfortunate_ Malcolm debacle-” she frowned at that and he proceeded to wave at the papers, “the answer to that is evidently not very well.”

Her shoulders dropped. “Yeah, well, the consequences of killing someone,” she grumbled, the thought still disturbing her. Remembering as she watched Lucifer crouch over Malcolm’s slowly dying body, watching it struggle and gasp for breath until he finally went still… she repressed a shudder.

“De.tect.ive,” the sound of her rank being half-exasperatingly groaned and half-whined was not a rare occasion, “there was nothing you could have done to have redeemed him. He was gone, and it was only going to get worse.” He prodded her shoulder, eyebrow quirking up pointedly. “Maze told me she told you as much.”

She nodded, she remembered that conversation with herself, Malcolm’s wife, and Lucifer’s _Demon_ bartender, all too clearly. Yet, “that isn’t exactly reassuring Lucifer. I could have avoided shooting to kill, I could have aimed for his legs, I could have aimed for his shoulder, anything, but I didn’t-” the rest of her words turned to incomprehensible mush as Lucifer shoved his hand over her mouth.

“For once in your life would you stop being so, so _bloody_ stubborn, listen to what I’m saying and stop torturing yourself… Have you been doing this all week?” He frowned at her, taking her lack of an answer - despite his hand still being over her mouth - as a yes, “well that’s no good. Why have you been doing that?” Her answer was a narrow of the eyes as she glared at him, and he quickly removed his hand. “Ah yes. Sorry.” His smile looked a little sheepish. “Well?” He prodded.

She stared back at him for a second, before looking away. “I shouldn’t have killed him.” The paperwork, amongst this conversation and other things, was giving her a tension headache. She scooted her chair backwards, the legs scraping on the worn carpeted floor meaning she had to lift it a little to get leverage, a few of the papers flying off the table in the process. She didn’t bother to pick them up, and instead turned to Lucifer who was watching her with an undiscernible look in his eyes. “I wanted him _dead_ Lucifer. For threatening Trixie, for-” she paused, still unable to believe it, “- _hurting_ you. I just…” She trailed off, turning away and dropping her head, and repeated herself. “I shouldn’t have killed him.”

There was a beat of silence. “Well little late for that now, isn’t it Detective? No use glowering about it, moping around here like some depressed mouse. Time to get moving!” She was surprised he didn’t follow that exclamation with a clap.

He was trying to lighten up the conversation, she knew that, but she just wasn’t feeling it today. Or tomorrow. Or maybe ever again. “Yeah, well maybe I like being a _depressed mouse-”_ She waved her hands in the air in agitation, “-at least it means I regret what I did.”

Her sentence came out a little sharper than intended, but if Lucifer was taken aback he didn’t show it and instead remained unwaveringly calm. “What are you saying Detective?”

She was getting a little worked up, her irritation at him for remaining so infuriatingly calm frustrating her. “Urgh, I don’t know, that at least I’m not _parading_ around _pretending_ to be the _Devil_ ; thinking I can punish people whenever I feel like the situation deems I can.” Why was she trying to hurt him? She didn’t know. She didn’t even know if she _was_. She was just so, so _fed up_ , with everything. Everything felt like it was falling apart; her job, her life. Dan was in jail for the foreseeable future, Trixie was having nightmares constantly and had taken up sharing her bed with her so Chloe hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since it had all gone down, and she was just _sick_ of it all. And yet, here he remained, completely at ease with it all like shooting someone dead was just every day run of the mill. Popping back up after a week’s silence, and expecting everything to go back to _normal._ Like it was just so _easy._

She was working herself up more and more as she stood and glared daggers at Lucifer, soundlessly steaming to herself and probably looking ridiculous. She was fully aware that the people in the office were hanging off every word they said, fully intending to spread the gossip later. She took a deep controlled breath, not wanting to give her co-workers who already hated her more reasons to antagonize her, and focused on slowly releasing it through her mouth. Thankfully Lucifer had remained silent and was simply staring at her. Usually he would have gone off in some tirade about people assuming he was evil and the bad guy; but now he was just watching her, eyes dark with some unfathomable emotion as he waited for her to finish her internal rant. Taking another deep breath, she forced herself to calm down, immediately feeling guilty once the anger leeched out of her. Her emotions were all over the place recently and her life was a clichéd emotional rollercoaster. She covered her face with her hands and dropped her head, before setting her shoulders and pulling her head up to look at him in regret. “God, Lucifer, I’m sorry – I didn’t mean-”

He pulled a face at her chosen deity, but for once didn’t remark on it. “No, you did, but it’s okay. Something’s bothering you. Something you’re not telling me,” he peered at her, as though he could read her mind, “tell me.” He lifted an eyebrow, “please?”

“There isn’t anything. I don’t know what you’re tal-”

“-nuh uh uh Detective. There is something, you basically talk with your face, well your eyes actually, absolutely rubbish at lying-” _to him_ , she thought bitterly. Other people believed her when she said we was fine. She tuned back into whatever Lucifer was saying as he got to his long winded point, ‘-so there’s no use pretending if it’s causing you to react like this… _come on tell me_.” She knew, automatically, that he was trying his creepy mind voodoo thing on her as his voice had dropped in pitch, and had taken on the sort of soothing compelling quality it did when he was trying to urge dirty thoughts out of unsuspecting people.

“Lucifer, stop, there isn’t anything.” She didn’t wait for a reply, instead turning on her heel and walking towards the exit and ignoring Lucifer’s frustrated groan. She needed some air, and a drink, but a drink would have to wait as she had to be clear headed. A really strong coffee would have to do.

She made it out the door, and was halfway to her car before a hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her back around so she came face to face with an irked off Lucifer who looked to be on the verge of shaking some sense into her. What sense he was trying to shake she didn’t know, it wasn’t any of his business. “I swear, if you don’t tell me right now what’s bothering you I will sling you over my shoulders and take you back to mine,” he smirked at the double entendre, ignoring her glare, “and I won’t let you leave until you _tell me_ what’s bothering you.” He looked completely serious, and Chloe gulped a little bit, not completely sure if he was joking.

“Look, Lucifer, I don’t know what you want me to sa-” she yelped and jumped backwards as he made to lift her up. “Stop! What are you doing?!”

He continued to stalk towards her as she moved backwards as fast as she dared, terrified of tripping as she stumbled over loose gravel. “Making good on my promise. Tell me, or you’re coming with me.”

Her back bumped into a nearby car, and she jumped a little in surprise, holding up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll tell you, just please no carrying me anywhere.”

He continued walking until he was crowding her, his chest pushing her back against the car and his hands on either side. His lips quirked up into an amused smile for a second. “You really don’t like being carried do you?”

She glared at him, “no.”

“Right then. Tell me, and I won’t carry you.” He smirked as though what he was saying was really funny, it wasn’t. She retained her glare until he backed up a few steps, giving her a little breathing room. Which she needed to clear her head. “Ah ah Detective. Stop delaying. You said you’d tell me, so spill.”

Chloe swallowed, shifting her eyes to look past his shoulder finding it easier than looking at him. She may be ‘immune’ – whatever that meant - to whatever he did to people, but the intense way he stared at her could still be unsettling. Taking a deep breath, she promptly blurted; “am I a bad person?” Before feeling an overwhelming urge to cover her face with her hands and hide. She didn’t, she remained resolute and turned to look at him with her head held high.

He looked baffled for a second, scrutinizing her face as though the answer would be written on it. “Well, of everything that could have been bothering you, I wasn’t expecting that.”

Chloe restrained herself from biting her lip and shrugged a shoulder, trying to remain dismissive. As though it didn’t really bother her _that_ much. “Just, I killed someone, deserved or not, I ended a life. I, just-” she changed tactic, “good people don’t end people’s lives.”

There was a beat of silence as Lucifer remained staring at her, not looking as confused but rather reserved as he peered into her eyes. “Are you asking me if you’re a bad person? Because that’s easy, _no_.” He regarded her for a second, before raising an eyebrow, “but there’s something else, isn’t there?”

Chloe looked away.

Lucifer gently placed a finger under her chin and turned her chin back to face him.

She swallowed, eyes flickering towards their shoes – noticing his were really shiny in comparison to her scruffy overly worn comfy heels - before back up, feeling a little sick to her stomach but biting back her pride and jumped head first into whatever the hell she was getting herself into. Trying to delude herself that she was not playing into Lucifer’s games. “Would I, you know, not that I believe in all this-” she waved a hand at him to generalize what she meant and took his nod as understanding, “but let’s say I did, for the sakes of this conversation, then would-” his quirked a brow at her stalling. She resigned herself, speaking through gritted teeth, “-would I go to Hell?”

Despite obviously knowing where her prattling question was leading, Lucifer still looked taken aback before he quickly schooled his expression into a lewd mask of amusement, stepping back with a flourish. “ _Well_ , knowing the Devil couldn’t do you any harm.”

Chloe sighed, instantly regretting asking, she should have known it would all be some big joke to him. Everything always a performance. “It doesn’t matter.” She forced a smile, despite just wanting to go home and curl up. No, she didn’t believe, but her conscience was still eating her. “Not as though any of it is real.” She muttered under her breath, shaking her head and pushing herself off the random person’s car.

Lucifer easily slid into her path, causing her to abruptly halt so she didn’t crash into him. She often forgot how tall he actually was, but standing this close she had to crane her head to scowl at him. “Lucifer, what-?” She cut herself off and tried to push past him. He matched her step easily, his hands coming up to land on her shoulders, pinning her in her spot. “Look,” she all of a sudden felt very weary, perhaps she needed a vacation, “I shouldn’t have asked.” She shook her head, guilt raring its ugly head as she stared at him, dropping her shoulders, she sighed and swallowed her ego. How could she have fallen into his delusions? Even for a second? She was supposed to be _helping_ him, not making it _worse_. “Christ, I’m sorry, Lucifer- I didn’t, I shouldn’t have lead you on. Playing into your delusions like that, I’m sor-”

“Wrong deity. But you’re not playing into anything Chloe,” the use of her first name had her blanching a little at the unfamiliar familiarity of it, ‘has this really been bothering you?” He peered into her face, all overblown smiles and bravado wiped from his expression, his eyes grave as he kept her in position with his hands. She impossibly stared back at him, gritting her teeth against the urge she had to look away. “It has, hasn’t it?” His voice somber, his lips tilting up in a small sad smile. “No, Chloe, you’re not a bad person, and you definitely don’t deserve _Hell-_ ” he paused for a second, hands coming to frame her face, “-you regret killing a man who threatened your _daughter’s_ life. If that isn’t ultimate repentance, I don’t know what is.”

“I-”

He cut her off. “Plus, my dear Detective, it’s not as though you believe in any of this anyway. No matter how much I try to make you believe; so what comes after shouldn’t be bothering you as much as it seems to be doing.” He studiously examined her, flickering his burning gaze between her face and her eyes.

Her head was still trapped between his hands. She blinked, mirroring his previously small sad smile, although hers felt a little more forced. “Yeah, well, not that I’m brushed up on my bible studies, but God doesn’t take kindly to apostasy apparently.”

Dropping her face, he looked at curiously - still with no concern over her personal space, she noted - as her admission shocked him, “you used to believe?”

“A long time ago,” she hesitated, voice barely a whisper, and Lucifer cocked an eyebrow at her, “before my father died,” she clarified.

“Ah.” He nodded. “Well, that’s more common than you’d probably think.”

She shrugged a shoulder, sending him an almost imperceptible regretful smile. “Still-”

This time when his hands framed her face, he ghosted a finger over her cheek. It was so feathery light she wasn’t sure if she imagined it, but she took comfort in it anyway, closing her eyes. “Chloe,” she made a small sound of acknowledgement, “Chloe, look at me.” She opened her eyes, looking at him puzzlingly, to be met with a gentle expression on Lucifer’s face, his eyes empathic. Once again the look was unusual, but she found herself wanting to see it more, it made him look open and his guards lowered revealed a hidden warmth that she wanted to bury herself in. “I wouldn’t let that happen.”

She hummed, not really paying attention, and shaking herself out of it, “sorry, what?”

He’d noticed, if the way his eyebrow quirked up was any notification, but let it slide – for now, thankfully. “I won’t let you go to Hell, Chloe, never.”

Her lips turned up slightly, “how-?”

The responding cocksure grin was much more Lucifer, lighting up his entire face as he dropped her face and finally stepped back giving her room to breathe. “I’m the Devil. Hell is my domain, if you happened to end up there I'd come get you.”

Not saying she believed, but hypothetically she scrunched her face up as _his_ reality of what he was saying struck a chord within her. “You’d do that? You’d go back to Hell for me?” Her voice wasn’t that much above a whisper, but he caught it anyway.

“Not that you’re going there Detective-” the use of her rank, his nickname for her, planted her feet firmly back on ground from where her mind had been dizzyingly spinning. She grasped a hold of it to help ground her. “-but, jail breaks are kind of my specialty.”

She hesitated a second, hating to admit it but feeling a lot more reassured, and slowly nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He peered at her, as if checking if she hadn’t abruptly tumbled into insanity.

Laughing lightly, her voice still a little shaky. She nodded again, this time more resolutely. “Okay.”

The smile that overcame his features was dazzling; he looked absolutely glorious.

“ _Okay_.”

**Author's Note:**

> The second part will be up later today, or tomorrow. Depending on whether it gives me as much difficulty as this one did. 
> 
> For some reason I have it as head-canon that Chloe does _not_ like to be carried... and Lucifer has no concern for personal space - this may crop up in a fic later (knowing me). 
> 
> If you get a second, let me know what your thoughts and I shall reply forthwith! Thanks for reading.


End file.
